


Logic Rules The Mind, But What of The Heart?

by Jairephix



Series: Logic and Love [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairephix/pseuds/Jairephix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You <i>what</i>!?" The redhead was torn between checking to see if her friend was hexed or going to make another cup of tea. </p><p>----<br/>Hermione Granger only had one relationship, and it went down in flames. Is she really sure she's ready for another one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Plan is Formed

"You _what_!?" The redhead was torn between checking to see if her friend was hexed or going to make another cup of tea. She settled for the second as the bushy-haired woman started to talk faster, a sign of her nerves.

"Gin, listen. It's...Draco's different now, I mean it. He's...he's actually become a person."

"A Malfoy. A real person."

Hermione stood, automatically gathering the mugs from the cabinets, trying to hide how terrified she was of Ginny's responses. _She's my best female friend...what if she stops talking to me over this?_ "He's changed a lot. Stopped with the Pureblood nonsense. We've gotten close at work, and..." A thought crossed Hermione's mind. "Gin, you know this isn't because of Ron, that just would have never worked out, with--"

"Mione? Ron's my brother, and I love him, but by Merlin, he is the the biggest, stupidest prat that could have ever been born. If I had known what he was doing..."

Any doubts that Ginny sided with her family over her friend disappeared. Hermione forced her shoulders to relax, putting her more at ease. "But." She looked up, cautious. "How do you know that Malfoy won't be the same way? You know. End up like Ron. He already 'helped' you break up with my brother...are you sure that he doesn't have an ulterior motive?"

"If he does, he's not going to like the consequences." Between her best friends, she was far more terrified of the damage Ginny could do, than Harry. Harry was temperamental, sure. But Ginny...Ginny would have been a fantastic Slytherin.

"So, what now?"

"I...I told him we were going to take it slow."

For a moment, she nodded, and then the red-head launched into her words. "Good. Slow is important. You and Ron rushed together because of hormones and a war, then stuck together because it was comfortable. Familiar. Mione, you're always going to be like a sister to me, regardless of who you date. But if this ferret even thinks about hurting you--"

"Gin, he's _terrified_ of that. You should see him, when he's not at the Ministry. He's all..." The bushy-haired witch blushed, realizing that her words were about to come out like a love-struck fool. "He's quiet, humble. Unsure of himself. He panics when it comes to the house-elves. I think he thinks I might attack him if he sends them to me. I've talked to them, though. They like him. He's not his father."

That last line gave Ginny pause as she picked up her mug to fill it. Taking advantage of this silence, Hermione continued. "We've had long conversations about how terrible Pureblood genetics get after a couple of generations, no offense, Gin--"

"None taken."

"And...he seems honestly interested in the Muggle world. I...I think his parents kept him from knowing too much outside of what _they_ knew, so..."

"So what?"

"I..." Hermione fidgeted, getting up to get her own tea. "I'm taking him to lunch in Muggle London."

"You _what_?!"


	2. Lunchtime

If there was ever a point in time where he had needed to come up with a ridiculous situation, Draco Malfoy may have chosen this. He had expected a nice, quiet lunch. With his girlfriend. At least he thought of her as his girlfriend, but no words discussing this ever came up. So for now, he hoped. Sure, he was surprised when she brought him to Muggle London for a meal, and was pleased to discover that when they arrived and shortly had both Potter and his wife at their table, he wasn't alone. In fact, Hermione's jaw dropped, and she spent a good couple of minutes glaring down her ginger friend. Of course, that did leave the rest of the table in awkward silence.

Draco looked anywhere but at Potter, sure that now their school days were past, he couldn't be the nasty brat he had been growing up. And with this morning's wank session, in the privacy of his bath...there was no way he could even look at the Auror. In fact, the blond was certain he was blushing. His face felt hot, and he had to turn to focus his attentions on the staring match beside him.

Hermione let out a long, loose sigh, shaking her head. "I should have known that this is what would have happened with you, Ginny..." The other girl grinned, shifting in her chair.

"You really should have. Besides, Harry and I have been meaning to have a nice lunch out, and this way..." That grin turned to the sole Slytherin at the table, and he realized that maybe, just maybe, all Gryffindor girls could have also been Slytherin with little issue. That smile was predatory, in a way that made him feel as though this was her plan all along. "This way we can meet your boyfriend."

"O-oh! I-I mean, well, we aren't exactly...I..."

Ah, now this was a situation he could handle. "My dear Granger! You wound me! Not exactly...have I not done enough to warrant your intentions in such a manner? I know, I shall personally endeavor to brush your hair myself, every morning."

"Draco!" The woman beside him began to laugh brightly, bringing a smile to his lips. "We both know how long that takes me to do. You'd take all day, you bloody perfectionist!"

Ginny leaned over to Harry, barely needing to whisper at all. Now the two were engaged so deeply in each other, that they could speak for a moment without fear of being overheard. "Maybe this is better than we had thought. Did you see how he looked at her?"

"Yeah." Her husband smiled at her the same way. "Mione's smart. She can handle herself...and if he makes her cry at all, that's when we hex his pants off."

"Pants off? That sounds a bit too nice, if you ask me. Just what happened after that Floo call ended?"

"Wha--Gin!"

She laughed a little too loudly, then returned to her whisper. "We'll talk later. Mione may have mentioned something in passing in one of her panic rants." He frowned, uncertain of how to take his wife's commentary, before remembering a drunken Draco met briefly on vacation, then turned back to the others, ears threatening to burn red.

"So. Lunch."  
\--  
The food itself was better than what he had been expecting. Raised with food served by house-elves, half-created with magic, he had thought that Muggle food would be okay at best. Instead, he had ended up spending the better part of the day describing the spices in the soup. Hermione laughed, moving through the manor with general ease now, towards the library.

"You're telling me that you've never had food that was tasted and seasoned that way before?"

"Never! I mean, I do rather often think of cooking in the same vein as potion-making, but you don't taste-test many potions. It's terrible for you, sure to end poorly."

She nods, smiling. "Well, I was thinking about maybe asking if I could try to cook for you some time...though..." Her smile faded, and worry coursed through him.

"What?"

"I...so, I found an apartment." Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at him, knowing the disappointment crossing his face. "I do need my space, and I need something less...lavish to live in. Draco, your manor is...well..."

"Dark." The word drawled out of him, and she knew she had said something that made him upset. His words only ever took on that sound when he was unhappy. But she had made up her mind, and Hermione Jean Granger was nothing less than stubborn.

"Yes. And I still have nightmares about this place. I...I need more _light_ in a house. There's too many memories here for me. This may be your home, but..."

"It's not for you. No, I understand." The witch looked up in time for him to wrap his arms around her. "Hermione, if I ever thought you would be content going along with something for my sake rather than yourself, I wouldn't know you." He squeezed her tighter. "Let me know when you're moving, and I'll have things all arranged for you."

"Oh, Mister Melodramatic!" She laughed, returning the hug. "It's not like I won't stop by here from time to time anyway."

"No?"

"I haven't finished reading your library."

Draco's laughter rang out through the building, a brighter, happier laugh than those walls had heard in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know, I'm going to be away every weekend until the end of the month for LARPs, and weekends are when I get the most writing done. I'll do my best to sneak in updates as I can, but you may not get a new chapter for a few weeks.


	3. Simplicity

If you had asked Draco Malfoy the seventh year what he would be doing by the age of 25, he would have given you a varied response, depending on the day, who you were, and how utterly unwilling he was to answer the question.

If he was feeling like a smarmy ass, he'd be sure to say something about being his father's only son, being pampered and cared for. He might throw in a line about buying his way into a Ministry job.

If he was feeling at all like a teenage boy, he'd tell you he'd be shagging six different women and married to none of them.

If he liked you, he'd tell you where among his future court of cronies you might lay. If he didn't, he'd spit venomous words at you.

But of course, if you had asked Seventh Year Draco Malfoy any of those, he'd say it with a nervous twitch, a sneer that wouldn't stay on his lips, and a heavy weight in his lungs. That Draco Malfoy was drowning on dry land, struggling to prove that he could be something to someone, other than a focal point for when things went south.

No matter what that Draco would have said, none of it would have ever been vocally admitting to a hope of helping make his half-blood girlfriend dinner in her Muggle apartment building, without magic, before settling in to snuggle on the couch and watch movies on the telly. Hermione had a way with spices he didn't know one could use on chicken. He always assumed a cream sauce or stuffed with a rich goat cheese. Never would he have thought to raid a spice cabinet, experimenting with scents and flavors like a particularly overeager potion maker who had lost the instructions.

At least, like a sane person, she did the dishes with magic. "A spell I learned from Mrs. Weasley," Hermione admitted, still keeping a watchful eye on sponge as it scrubbed a pot particularly viciously. "I never did like having to wash by hand, and the dishwasher just uses so much water."

Draco did nearly lose it when she handed him a candy bar for snacking on while watching the telly, he was confused. "It's...not a chocolate frog."

"Nope."

"There's...nothing but...sugar."

"Yep."

"How bizarre."

"What's more strange is that my parents didn't let me have them until after I was done with Hogwarts." She went slowly quiet, eyes staring at the blank wall above the television set. "Chocolate doesn't help with only Dementors."

Draco pulled her closer, letting her head rest against his chest. "You...told me about the...science behind it. That chocolate helps with depression." She nodded, her curls bouncing just so to tickle his nose. He resisted the urge to push her hair down or out of his face. Instead he breathed in, the heady vanilla scent keeping him thinking in the now. She needed him to think in the now, when she wasn't. Her hand came up to tug her sweater sleeve down over her arm, an assurance more than anything else. "Which you think is something akin to what the Dementors do to us."

"Yes...that's right." She blinked, slowly raising her head to meet his eyes. "You remember a lot."

"I would have had the best grades in our year, if it wasn't for you being always strides ahead of me." He put on a haughty look, sniffing in that particular way that made her laugh now, when years ago with would have made her purple with rage. It succeeded, all the shadows leaving her eyes, turning them to that dancing brown he loved so well.

Hours passed in each other's arms, and slowly she fell asleep. Carefully, he flicked his wand, levitating her. Draco carefully guided her to her own bed, tucking her in. With a kiss on her cheek he made sure to set her alarm, and lock up behind him, as he headed home.

Seventeen year old Draco Malfoy would have never dared to dream that he would utter the words he now whispered to the stars.

"I love you, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time no see! There's a reason. I'm both sad and excited to say that this is on semi-permanent hiatus after this chapter...as I'm in the process of getting a novel published! Thank you so much for staying with me during my writing of fanfiction for both this and my other series. <3 I will come back to this some day, hopefully soon!


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